Too Much Drinky Drinky
by QueenOfTheFlame
Summary: Pyro gets drunk and admits his feely feels for Kitty.


I watch from the corner of my eye as he knocks back a shot of clear liquid. He sits slouched over the counter, hand curled into a fist and pressing against his cheek. He looks exhausted.

I bite my lip as he reaches a shaky hand forward, curling it around the bottle of vodka – half of which has already been drunk. How long has he been sat here like this?

"John?" I ask softly, stepping into the room hesitantly.

"What do you want?" He slurs without looking, eyes trained on the small shot glass as he pours the vodka – spilling it almost all over the table.

"John…" I scold softly, moving forward to pull the vodka away from him.

The thought of consoling John Allerdyce is more than a little strange. It's darn right out of the ordinary – but he looks so helpless, so torn and devastated. It jerks at the strings of my heart.

He pushes me away, letting out an incoherent protest. He snatches the vodka from my hands and lifts it to his head, guzzling. I can only imagine the burn. With the slightest hesitation, my hand darts forward and snatches for the bottle. He seems surprised and lunges for it – I can't get out of the way quick enough and for some reason I don't even think to phase. The bottle's knocked out of my hand and shatters across the floor.

"Look what you did!" He growls and moves forward as if to push me away – but as he does, he semi-collapses against me.

I can barely hold him up, nearly his entire weight resting against me – jeez he's so freakin' hot. The warmth emitting from him is just crazy. It almost seems as if the alcohol is enhancing his body heat.

"Okay, we need to get you to your room." I mutter, struggling to move form the table to the door.

He doesn't respond, instead just clings to me, swaying and struggling to remain upright. Thankfully I can phase so we didn't have to go through the corridors – and everyone's asleep. No one notices us moving through.

Finally we reach his room and by this point – I'm almost sweating. Not just from the effort, but from his heat too. We reach his bed – but as I go to let him down gently, he falls forward, arm still around my shoulder – and pulls me onto the bed with him.

My cheeks flush as I struggle to detangle myself from him – but to my surprise he clings on tightly.

"John, what are you doing?" I mutter, chest heaving slightly from the effort of attempting to pull myself out of his grip.

"Don't leave." He murmurs softly, eyes shut tight.

"What?" I squint at him in confusion.

"I don't want to be alone. I'm so sick of everything. Nothing makes sense anymore."

"John…" I breathe, starting to shake my head.

"Please?" He whispers, eyes suddenly open and on mine.

It's the force of those eyes, the burning intensity – the need within them, that makes me silently nod my head. His eyes close once more and he lets out a sigh that sounds suspiciously a lot like a sigh of release – or perhaps relief?

He shifts himself so that his arms are both around my waist, both resting lightly along my back. I find my face pressing lightly against his chest, my body flush against his – his chin resting on top of my head.

"If you puke on me…" I warn softly.

He chuckles lightly, his warm breath flitting through my hair. "I think I'm slowly starting to sober up."

"Really?" I pause. "What's wrong John?"

He inhales shakily. "Everything is just so complicated. I can't stand being here – being an X-Men."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Something else." He murmurs.

"That can't be all, can it?"

A pause that seems to last an eternity.

"Kitty… you need to understand. I haven't felt anything other than anger for a very long time. For as long as I can remember." He whispers.

"Why? Has something changed?" I ask curiously.

Another endless pause when suddenly he pulls his head back slightly.

"Kitty, look at me." He asks quietly.

I hesitate, my heart suddenly leaping into my chest. Forwning slightly, I look up at him. He pauses, wets his lips nervously – and then leans towards me.

His mouth, his lips – are ten times hotter than his body. And they seem to grow in heat the longer their pressed against mine. It's a slightly open-mouthed kiss, warm and soft – tender. I find myself sinking into it before he pulls back.

His eyes are questioning. "I think I finally feel something Kitty. For you."

I bite my lip hard and pause before I'm unable to keep a serious expression any longer. I lean forward, smiling slightly against his lips.

"I feel the same way."

Out lips meet, fiery with the burning heat and I close my eyes, absorbing myself within the beauty of the kiss.


End file.
